


When Jared bought Peter as a slave

by rethrin



Series: Many Times Peter and Jared Cuddled [18]
Category: Franklin & Bash
Genre: M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:25:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rethrin/pseuds/rethrin





	When Jared bought Peter as a slave

Jared was home late, he was working the summer in his dad's law firm and had been researching and preparing documents well into the evening.

"Son, your new pet arrived, I put it in your room." Jared stared at his dad, confused. "Make sure it doesn't make a mess."

"My pet?" Then realisation hit him. "Peter? He's here? Don't you ever fucking call him that."

His dad ignored his son's outrage, just nodded and went back to his paper. Leaving Jared looking up the stairs, wondering what the hell happened next.

His parents had warned him away from Peter all his life, a slave boy was not a suitable friend for their son. Of course he wasn't a working slave then, he'd been assigned at birth, marked to be sold when he was eighteen. Jared ignored them, Peter was funny and kind and smart and understood when he was joking and when he wasn't, nothing would have kept them apart. His parents had ignored it, assuming they would naturally grow apart, but they only grew closer. And when they took Peter away, six months ago, Jared had swallowed all his pride and pretty much begged his father to get him back.

Now he was enrolled to study law, and had signed a contract committing to work for his father for five years after that. But he had Peter back. And part of him ached to see him again, but part of him was fucking terrified.

He climbed the stairs and opened the door slowly. Peter was kneeling on the floor, dressed in a baggy sweater with a wide scoop neck, and jeans, they'd cut his hair; he was slumped down, like he'd been there a while, and Jared could see that he'd been crying. When he noticed the door open he straightened and stared straight down at the floor.

"What are you doing, it's me," Jared said. And when Peter didn't move, "Peter, it's okay."

Peter tore his eyes from the floor as if it was physically difficult, and looked up at him. "I didn't know what you'd want, ..." And his tongue tripped, knowing he should address his lawful owner as master, but looking at Jared.

Jared shook his head, begging him not to say it, and turned to busy himself with moving things around on his desk, anything to make his hands busy. "Just get up, okay?"

Peter did, and he stood there awkwardly.

"I don't want any of that," Jared said, he'd known this was going to be weird, because he'd bought his best friend as a slave, so he'd rehearsed this a lot, but it was awful now it was here. "I thought... I hoped it would be better for you to be here. With me. But if you hate it, I'll," he coughed, "I'll find you somewhere else. Safe. I don't want," he hated having to say it, hated that Peter might think that he did, but Peter had been kneeling, waiting for him, not sure what he'd want. "It's not a sex thing," he finally managed, feeling sick. "I'd never hurt you."

He wouldn't be allowed to free him, Peter was a slave and there'd been no way to change that since he was born. But Jared would sell him on, if that's what Peter wanted, though he knew it would kill him to do it.

Peter swallowed and wiped tears from his cheeks while Jared still wasn't looking at him. He tried to say thank you, but six months of training, six months of discipline forced him to stay silent. He wondered if Jared was ever going to look at him again and what he was going to do if he did.

"Was it . . are you okay?" Jared asked after a moment, staring carefully down at his desk.

Peter knew what he was really asking, what they'd done to him, how much they'd hurt him. But then he realised Jared must already know everything that'd happened to him. Information to new owners was thorough and detailed; he'd had to record videos, and have pictures taken. The realisation that they'd been sending them to Jared hit him and he felt his stomach heave.

Jared must have heard his breathing catch, he turned then, and Peter bowed his head at once, but he knew he must look awful because Jared half reached towards him, and then lowered his arms with a choked breath. They stood like that for a second.

"Peter, I don't know what to do," Jared said eventually and he sounded so helpless. But Peter couldn't move, couldn't speak. "I shouldn't have... I know they don't sell slaves to people who knew them, dad pulled strings. I just couldn't leave you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry if this is awful."

Peter could see that he was going to turn away again, and he knew he didn't want that. Everything they'd drilled into him over the last six months screamed for him to stay quiet: the first week was the most important, you had to be professional, obedient, no matter what your Master said to you, he wanted you to be good, he wouldn't have bought a slave if he wanted anything else. But the eighteen years before that said that his best friend was in front of him, that he was embarrassed, scared, that he needed help working this out. It forced him to speak. 

"Let me kneel, Jare?" he said softly, and Jared looked at him so confused. "It would just be easier, just for now." 

He felt sick, and so dirty, to ask something so ridiculous, but he couldn't stand any more, it was against everything he was now.

Jared half gestured something that might have meant okay, and Peter dropped to his knees gratefully, bowing his head. "Sorry," he said.

"S'okay," Jared told him, and dropped to sit cross legged in front of him. "You can kneel if you want, anything you want. But we'll work it out, okay. Don't make me send you away again," he said softly.

Peter waited a long time, trying to remember how to speak, how to think, what he should say. What he wanted to say. What he wanted was so unimportant. He'd stay, of course he would. Anything Jared wanted. Even though Jared might not want him for very long, probably wouldn't. It didn't matter; he'd give everything in the world for three or four more months with Jared, maybe a year. Everything.

"I used to pretend you'd buy me. It was what I thought about," he managed in the end, but he couldn't go on. What he thought about when things were more awful than he could cope with, when he needed to escape to somewhere deep inside, a dream. When the car had brought him here he'd felt hope lifting in his chest, and had fought it down. He'd wondered if it was something they did, pretended you could go _home_ and then took you away again. And when they'd let him out of the car he'd wondered if Leonard . . . if he wasn't here for Jared. 

Jared seemed to get what he was saying. Jared always had.

"I missed you so much," Jared said.

When Peter started crying at that Jared moved forward and held him without thinking about it, and Peter felt everything inside him crack open. Jared's touch reached right through everything, through all his carefully controlled thoughts, his carefully constructed behaviours, everything he'd been told was true. It was a touch he knew better than anything else in the world and he couldn't even think to be scared of it. It was almost certainly a dream, but he leaned into it anyway. 

"It'll be okay, I promise."

He felt Jared take his hand, and he gripped back tightly. He bowed his head and felt his Master's hand on his neck. Jared, and his Master. Either of them had every right to touch him, and it didn't matter for the moment who was who. He shouldn't cry, not in front of his Master, but Jared wouldn't mind. And he shouldn't kneel, not in front of Jared, but his Master was right there. He felt his mind swirling, but Jared was holding him close and for the first time in months there was a center.


End file.
